A Confederacy of Dumptys: Portraits of American Scoundrels in Verse

by John Lithgow

The invasion, like a torrent wiping out a DC picnic, Swept away a Capitol policeman, Brian Sicknick, Then claimed a second victim at the Speaker’s Lobby door: Ashli Babbitt took a bullet and fell backward to the floor. Minority chief McCarthy, in his desperate hour of need, Got Dumpty on the phone and begged his boss to intercede. Though Kevin was by habit Dumpty’s deferential drudge, Despite his frantic plea, the sodden POTUS wouldn’t budge. Lounging in the Oval, Dumpty sipped a Diet Coke And with slack self-satisfaction cracked a condescending joke: “Well, Kev,” he said, and wiped a blob of ketchup off his shoe, “It looks like this election has them more upset than you.” With the melee grabbing half the planet’s horrified attention, Dumpty’s inner circle staged a nervous intervention. They timidly suggested that the POTUS might release A presidential order to stand down and keep the peace. Dumpty grudgingly consented in a sour and surly sulk. He polished off his Burger King and hoisted up his bulk, Then stood before a camera and addressed the angry mob, Concealing his delight at how they’d carried out their job. In its paper-thin hypocrisy, his video epistle